Is That A Russian In Your Pants?
by shuntbumps
Summary: Marty likes cookies, Merrill likes Drew, Karl likes fairies, Drew likes Pirates. Warnings for blatant hording of cookies.
1. Squeegees and Privates, er, Pirates

Scene One: Squeegees and Privates, er, Pirates

Opens with Drew lying in his coffin, reading a book. Merrill prances up (yes, _prances_)

Merrill: Hi Drew! Is that a squeegee in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

Drew: (pulling a squeegee from, ah, _somewhere_ in those rather tight pants) It's a squeegee.

Merrill: Oh. Wait. Why do you have a squeegee in your, uh, _pocket_?

Drew: Merrill, you could've said High Ranking members of the Russian Mafia and I would've found a way to pull them out of my, uh, _pocket. _Wait, why am I talking in italics and innuendoes?

(Marty, who's been eavesdropping, pokes his, uh, head in)

Marty: Ya know Drew, you seem to have a fascination with the idea of manly Mafia members in your, uh, _pocket_.

Drew (muttering): I'm _not_ gay.

Marty: Riight. And that's why there _isn't _a 'ridiculously-good-looking' blonde named Andre outside, that_ isn't_ dressed in swashbuckling pirate garb.

Drew (looking stricken): But, but, today isn't Tuesday is it? 

(Stands up, knocking book to the floor) Oh god it is! (Rushes out)

Marty (looking visibly shaken): Truth is stranger than fiction. The only thing stranger is when my fiction becomes truth.

Merrill (muttering): He's _not_ gay.

Marty (deciding not to hear her): Hey! He forgot his squeegee!

Merrill (sarcastically): Oh, _now_ how's he gonna wash windows?

Marty (dropping the squeegee as if it had cooties, which it probably did, and eyeing Merrill like she just said Christmas had been replaced with Annual Wash Your Underwear day.) Merrill, I hope to _god_ that's not a euphemism for something dirty!

Merrill kicks the offending squeegee and stalks away.

Marty (peering all around to make sure he's alone): Well, why let a good squeegee go to waste?

(He then pockets it and sidles away humming the theme from Mission: Impossible)

Scene shift to the big round table where Karl and Essie are having a rather dirty conversation…

Essie: Here's another, lick it.

Karl: mm-mmf

Essie: No, not like that! You gotta lick _the whole thing._

Karl (slightly muffled with something in his mouth): I'm twying. It'th _hard!_

Essie: oh, it's not _that_ hard! I've done it before.

Karl (still muffled): Tho why don't _you_ do it then? If you're thuch an ekthpert.

Essie: Karl, you _know _that's impossible.

Karl: Why ith it tho impothible?

Essie: For anatomical reasons!

(Drew walks in and, upon hearing that last statement, rotates 180° and walks out.)

Karl: What'th hith problem?

Essie: I dunno. Maybe he doesn't like stamps.

(And she proceeds to address another letter. What did you _think_ they were doing?)

Karl: I think my tongue ith thwollen from all thith lickin' an' thtickin'.

Essie: Better you than me.

Karl: Why'th that now?

Essie: Because, for every stamp you lick, that's 1/10 of a calorie I don't have to count.

Karl (looking worried): Do I hafta count it?

Essie (smiling indulgently albeit creepily): Of course not Dearie. 

Karl (looking even more worried): Dearie?

Essie (dropping her smile like a light sabre at a Trek convention) Quiet _you_.

(Enter Dr. Murdoch who pops up randomly, like zits)

Dr. Murdoch (a la Troy McClure from The Simpsons): Hi! (Insert toothy smile) I'm Dr. Murdoch. You may remember me from the last time I gave you clichéd advice on becoming more human!

(Upon receiving no acknowledgement he stomps huffily off to check on his pie)

(Marty and Merrill enter simultaneously because, well, if this chapter is going to have a climax we need them all in the same room)

Marty (switching from the theme to Mission: Impossible, to Aretha Franklin's Respect): hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm E-C-T, find out what it means to…

Essie: Uh, Marty…?

Marty (realising that he's been caught singing and feeling embarrassed and a _leetle_ bit angry) _What?_

Essie (gleefully): You were singing Aretha Franklin! You were! You were! Hee hee!

Marty (frowning and pouting and basically resembling a rhinoceros) You ever notice how the first syllable of horny is _whore? _I think-

Merrill (because she hasn't said anything for awhile): Marty, whore starts with a W.

Marty: Don't interrupt. As I was saying, I think that if you're one… you're bound to be the other.

Karl: …and we all know that your one of them!

(Simultaneously): KARL!

Marty: You stole my punch line!

Essie: You called me horny!

(All eye her, amazed at her denial.)

Merrill (Unsure of what to tell her. Not because she's excessively nice, because there were so many ways to insult her and she couldn't decide which one to pick): He also called you…

Essie: A bore?

Merrill: Nooo…

Essie: A chore?

Merrill: Welll…

(Fortunately for Essie, Drew walks in then with… a Pirate?)

(Everyone does a cartoonish double take)

Drew (a la Dr Nick from the Simpsons): Hi Everybody!

Marty: Hi! Super-pouffe!

Drew (mystified): Pouffe? Whatever do you mean? (And proceeds to grope his… Pirate?)

Merrill (attempting to make small talk): So… Drew, are you going to introduce us to your, uh, Pirate?

Drew (looking shocked): Merrill! This is neither the time, nor the place! 

Pirate (in a dramatic stage-whisper): I think she was talking about me.

Drew: Oh.

Merrill (slightly disappointed): Besides, it's midnight in a boarding school.

Drew: Your point?

Merrill: That's where 46% of teenage pregnancies occur.

Drew (staring): You want me to impregnate you? 

Merrill: No I-

Drew (hysterically): I don't want to hear it! I've had enough of your corrupted agenda!

Marty (accusingly to Merrill): _Now _look what you've done! You've got Tinkerbelle in a right flap.

Karl: Tinkerbelle?

Marty: He's a fairy.

Karl (excitedly): Really? Can he fly?

Marty (putting his hand to his temple and sighing) Yes Karl. He can fly.

Karl (turning worshipful eyes to Drew): Wow.

(By this time Essie has noticed the Pirate, whose name is Andre, and has that hunting look in her eye… you know the one, we've all had it before!)

Essie: Well, well, well. What nummy little treat do we have here…

Drew (still hysterically) You can't eat my sex toy!

Essie (seizing his arm): Oh, you don't want him! You're still in denial about your sexuality!

Drew: Leggo my Andre! And I'm _not_ gay.

Andre: Oh please, you're gayer than Christmas! And thanks for making me sound like edible panties…

Drew: Pipe down, or I'll let Essie have her way with you!

Andre (hurt): Down _say_ things like that, you sadistic bastard!

Drew: You know you like it.

Andre (grinning): Yeah. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Drew: Does it involve a squeegee?

(At this Marty guiltily pulls his coat more tightly closed.)

Drew (reaches into his pocket for the squeegee, but instead pulls out a giant, spiked dildo): Hey! That's not my squeegee!

(Everyone stares at him, shocked)

Essie: Hey! _You're _the one who stole my penis!

(Everyone stares at her shocked, well not so much shocked as say, disgusted)

(Dr. Murdoch strolls in with a plate, presumably a plate of pie, and hears Essie)

Dr. Murdoch (confuzzled): Essie has a penis?

Marty: Well, not anymore.

Dr. Murdoch: Why not?

Marty: Drew stole it. He thought it would increase his masculinity.

Dr. Murdoch: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Not even a giant, spiked dildo could increase Drew's masculinity.

(Everyone stares at him, shocked)

Dr. Murdoch (noticing the stares): What? It's true!

Drew (muttering): I'm _not_ gay.

Merrill (muttering): He's _not_ gay.

Karl (muttering): Drew's _not_ gay.

(Everyone looks at him)

Karl: What? Wasn't it my turn?

Dr. Murdoch: You sound like you could do with a piece of-

Karl (interrupting): Pie?

Dr. Murdoch: No. Peach cobbler.

(Everyone gapes openly, Dr. Murdoch doesn't notice. He's lost in the orgasmically good taste of Peach cobbler)

Marty: It's times like these that call for a cookie.

Merrill: A cookie?

Marty: A cookie. Preferably chocolate. Or peanut butter. Or both.

Merrill: I think someone needs a good dose of reality.

Marty: Reality is a crutch for people who can't handle Marty.

Karl: It is?

Essie: Actually it's 'Reality is a crutch for people who can't handle drugs'

Marty: Same thing.

Karl: It is?

Marty (singing): Could I be your wonder drug? Could I be the one you… 

Essie (sarcastically): Gee. That's clever.

Karl: It is?

(Both look at him)

Essie: Ookay. I think I could use a cookie too.

Marty (looking scared): You can't have my cookies! I won't let you! (Rushes off)

Andre (to Drew): Wow. First my cookies. Then that guy's cookies. That chick sure is a-

Essie: bore?

Andre: Nooo… a-

Essie: chore?

Andre: Welll…

(Fortunately, for Essie, girlish shrieking is heard coming from the coffin room)

Andre (to Drew): Hey! You didn't lend him one of our toys, did you?

Drew (ignoring everyone else's sniggers): Of course not! Now _pipe_ down!

Merrill: Why don't we all go see what the shrieking was for?

(They all go, albeit reluctantly. When they reach the coffin room they see Marty crouched on a chair, near tears.)

Essie: Looks like 'wonder drug' is on a bad trip.

Dr. Murdoch: Well, that wasn't very nice.

Essie (sounding contrite): Sorry Dr. Murdoch.

Dr. Murdoch: Darn tootin'! If anyone's going to insult Marty and belittle his self-esteem, it'll be me!

Andre (kindly): Marty, are you feeling a little oh-I-don't-know, _psychotic_ today? (Pats him kindly on the shoulder)

Marty (a la Ralph Wiggums): Daddy, he's touching my special area! 

Drew (in a breathy voice): It may seem wrong, but it feels _so _right!

(He then advances toward Andre, who is still standing over Marty)

(Marty squeals girlishly before knocking his chair over and himself silly)

Andre (looking at Marty who is dazed and sucking his thumb): Great, you stupefied it.

Drew (kicks Marty's foot): If this was an alien/action/horror flick, and you said that, it would make me the hero.

Merrill: Marty, why were you 'squealing girlishly'?

Marty (sniffing): I wanted a cookie. Bu-but there were bugs in the cookies!

Karl (looking up with a mouth full of cookie): Wha!?

Drew: Marty, you can't keep cookies in a coffin. For one thing, think of the _crumbs_, for another thing, it's blatant hording of cookies!

Marty (dropping the girly façade and growling): They're _my _cookies I'll horde them if I damn well please. 

Drew (like a guest on Ricki Lake, if you don't know what they're like, heaven save us!): Oh! Don't make me go medieval on you, girlfriend!

Marty: Oh, don't even _go_ there!

(At this point Merrill, Essie and Andre are eating popcorn and watching the 'catfight', Which has progressed to hair pulling and Shakespearian insults.)

Drew (throwing himself at Marty): Cry Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war!

Marty (stepping aside and watching Drew fall on his face): What? Wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

(Drew leaps up and using telekinesis Marty pulls down his pants revealing… pink striped boxers. Angered beyond reason, Drew claws blindly at Marty's jacket unknowingly freeing…)

Drew (in joy): My squeegee!

Marty (in embarrassment): I, uh, wonder how that got there.

Drew: How could you do this to me Marty? Don't you know how much this squeegee means to my sexual relations!

Marty (shuddering): Frankly m'dear, I don't give a damn.

(At this point Drew notices that his pants are still down and Merrill, Essie and Andre are oggling his goods. Well, Andre he doesn't mind, but Essie? Merrill? That's just wrong.)

Drew (to the girls): Stop that!

Merrill and Essie in unison: Stop what?

Drew: Oggling my Pirates.

Merrill: Don't you mean privates?

Andre: Well, when everybody's oggling them they're not that private…

Drew: Quiet you, or I'll withhold sex!

Andre (shocked and horrified): Gasp! You monster!

Drew (boasting): Yeah, well, we Princes of Darkness tend to be evil. 

Marty (snickering): Riight. Eeevil.

Drew: I _am _evil.

Marty: Uh-huh. Sure.

Drew: It's true! On the weekends I go down to the animal shelters and poke the little kitties with big pointy sticks!

Marty (appalled): You-you, vile _worm_.

Drew (startled): What?

Andre: I don't know if I _want_ to sleep with a cruel bastard like you.

Drew (confused): Huh?

Essie: I wouldn't want to sleep with him either.

Drew (scared now): But-

Dr. Murdoch: You might have to leave the experiment for this Drew; I'll have to consult the Elders (walks off with cobbler)

Drew: Kicked out?

Karl (sniffling): Why would do something like that Drew? 

Drew (as everyone turns and walks away): but I didn't- hey! 

(Drew sits dejectedly on his coffin all alone)

(Merrill walks up, squeegee in hand)

Merrill (comfortingly): Hi Drew, I've brought you your squeegee.

Drew (looks at her): I'm brooding, not blind. (Resumes brooding)

Merrill (ignoring him): You know I've been thinking…

Drew: brood, brood, brood, brood…

Merrill: And I think that we each have our own personal demons…

Drew: brood, brood, brood, brood

Merrill: So, I just want you to know that _I_ believe you aren't a monster… (Puts a hand on his thigh and sits down next to him)

Drew (struggling to ignore her): brood, brood, brood, gulp, brood…

Merrill (slyly): Say, is that a High Ranking member of the Russian Mafia in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

Drew (looks at her before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a man): It's a Rusky.

(Merrill harrumphs before stalking away)

(Russian sits down beside Drew on the coffin)

Russian (looking after Merrill): Vell, dat vosn't very nice.


	2. Out of the Frying Pan, into the Piano

Scene Two: Out of the frying pan, into the piano

Opens with Drew reading a book in his coffin and brooding. Again. Why? Because that's what he does when he's deprived of sex. 

(Enter Marty who's looking around curiously)

Drew (testily): What do _you _want?

Marty (mystified): I haven't even insulted you yet, (excitedly) am I _that_ annoying?

Drew: Brood, brood, brood, brood…

Marty (tilting his head to the left and sounding like Sally Jesse Raphael.): Drew, you seem a little _down_. Are you _down_ Drew?

Drew: Brood, brood, brood, need sex, brood…

Marty: Now, now, pure thoughts.

Drew: Easy for you to say.

Marty: Why's that now? I haven't been laid in _ages._

Drew: Oh, don't think you can hide anything from me. After all we _live_ together.

Marty (disturbed): Don't _say_ that. Besides, I don't have anything to hide. Well, except for all my deep, dark secrets… 

Drew (eyes him warily): Everyone knows about _Linda._

Marty (shiftily): Uh, Linda? Who's Linda?

Drew (matter of factly): You can't order a 'Deluxe Blow Up Doll' through the mail, and expect us not to notice!

Marty: Well, uh, at least it's a Linda, and not a Larry! 

Drew (in an English school-marm accent): Whatever do you mean?

Marty (accusingly): Oh, you know _exactly_ what I mean!

(Marty walks off, somewhat triumphantly, to visit, uh, 'Linda')

Drew: *sigh*, brood, brood, *sigh*, brood…

(He gets out a pirate sword from beneath his coffin and looks at it nostalgically) 

(Marty walks back because he forgot why he came in there the first time)

Marty: Merrill says that you have a High Ranking member of the Russian Mafia in here! (Peers around) is it true?

Drew (giving him the what-_are_-you-talking-about look): Of course not.

Marty (obviously let down): Oh. Well, I didn't believe her anyway.

Drew (reaching into his pocket and pulling out the Russian): He's only an informant.

Marty (staring): How the _hell_ did you-

Drew: …keep Murdoch from finding out?

Marty: Not qui-

Drew: …smuggle him into the country?

Marty: Not exac-

Drew: …keep him so fresh and clean smelling? It's easy, you take a bounce sheet-

Marty (slightly hysterical, because he's better that way. Don't try to deny it.): No! How do you fit him in your pants?

(At this the Russian giggles and they both glare at him)

Drew (a la my 5 year old niece): It'th a secwet…

Marty: Ookay. I think I need some Peach Cobbler.

Russian: Peach Cobbler?

Marty: Yeah. It's not so bad, and after what happened with the cookies… (He shudders visibly)

Drew: You mean when I whooped your ass?

Marty: You didn't 'whoop' my ass.

Drew: Kicked it then?

Marty: You didn't 'kick' it either.

Drew: Oh. (Thinks for a moment) You must be talking about the time I (a la Homer Simpson) squeezed your sweet, sweet can… arrlggh…

Marty (a la The Blair Witch Project): I. Am. So. Scared. (Runs from the room)

(Essie, Karl, Merrill and Andre are sitting at the big round table doing… stuff. Yes that will do. Stuff.)

(Marty rushes in. Stops. Resumes pace nonchalantly)

Essie (looking up): Were the other Divas picking on you Aretha?

Marty (scowling): Actually yes, the resident 'Diva' just (in a dramatic stage whisper) Came.

Essie: uh-huh…

Marty: On.

Essie: uh-huh…

Marty: To.

Essie: uh-huh…

Marty: ME!

(Essie utters a small shriek before falling over backwards)

Merrill (obviously jealous): What's he doing now?

Marty: Playing with his sword.

(Merrill's eyes widen at the thought and she jumps up and runs towards the coffin room.)

Marty (after Merrill): No! I didn't mean- ah hell. I don't care. (Sits dejectedly)

Karl (to no one in particular): If Drew's a fairy, why's he need a sword?

Marty: Well, you see Karl. Drew's a… special kind of fairy.

Karl: Special?

Marty: Yeah. His kind is all about 'swords'.

Karl: Swords? (After a few moments) I was in the Special Class at school…

(Scene shift to the coffin room where Drew is polishing his, uh, sword. In rushes Merrill)

Drew (without looking up): Go away brood, I mean Merrill, brood, brood, brood…

Merrill: Marty said you were polishing your sword, (slyly) need any help?

Drew (eyes widen): Pervert! Pervert! (Points hysterically) Creep! Pervert! Barney! (Runs off)

Merrill (yelling): Barney? (Chases after him)

(Scene shifts back to the table where Essie is supervising Karl's construction-paper cutting, and Andre is eyeing Marty)

Karl: Why can't I use the big boy scissors?

Essie: Because you're stupid.

(Everyone looks at her, shocked)

Essie: What? It's true!

(Everyone looks up as Drew runs past screaming 'Barney', with Merrill in pursuit)

Drew (running): Help! Save Me! Creep!

Merrill (also running): Wait! Stop! I just wanna polish your sword!

Andre (leaping to his feet): Hey! That's my job!

(Drew, Merrill and Andre rush after one another)

Essie: C'est la vie.

Karl: Say what?

Essie: It's French.

Karl: Oh. (a la The King of Siam) Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Essie (exasperatedly): Oh that's _it_. No more Disney Channel for you.

Marty (to Karl): Yeah, we might find a way to kill the witch. (Points to Essie)

Essie: Quiet Aretha.

Marty (a la Ralph Wiggums): Leave me alone.

(walks off towards the piano area place)

(Scene shifts to the piano area place where Merrill and Andre are apparently trying to get Drew out of… the piano?)

Merrill (to the piano): Drew? You can't stay in there all night.

Drew (muffled, cause he's in the piano): I can if you believe I can

Merrill: Will you at least let the Rusky out?

Drew (still muffled): Well… okay.

(We hear a few strange thumps and bumps before the Russian pops out)

Russian (dusting himself off): Vell, dat is much better I am tinking…

Andre (to the piano): Drew, you could suffocate and die in there, you know…

Merrill (without thinking): No he couldn't.

Andre (looking at her strangely): Riight. Anyway, Drew just come out here, Essie keeps touching me and Karl is _really _dumb…

Drew: I WON'T, You can't MAKE me…

Andre: Fine then, be that way…

(Andre and Merrill leave with Rusky)

(Marty enters)

Piano (who's really Drew): I don't care! I'm not coming out!

Marty (Who's terrified of Ghosties): Eek! It's the Boogie Man! (Dives under piano)

Drew (from above Marty): The Boogie Man? Aah! (Dives out of piano to huddle with Marty) 

Marty (unamused): Oh. I was wrong. It's the Fruity-Man.

Drew (still scared): Oh no! Not the Fruity-Man! (Grasps onto Marty's coat)

(Marty then tries to scooch away from Drew and ends up hitting his head _really_ hard on the piano, falls over slightly. Wait. Is that possible?)

(Drew leans over Marty)

Drew (breathily): Marty! Are you okay!

(Startled, Marty sits up, again, and bangs his head, again)

Marty: Ow!

Drew: Did you say 'Oh!'? As in we might start a 'torrid love affair'?

Marty (panicking): No!

Drew: Oh?

Marty: No!

Drew: Oh.

Marty: NO!

Drew: No, I meant 'Oh' as in I know, that you mean 'No' instead of 'Oh', ya know?

Marty (thinks for a moment): NO!

Drew: Oh.

Marty: NO!

Drew: Shut-up. Now my head hurts.

(They sit awkwardly for a moment before getting up, and going to find the others. They find them gathered around the television, watching a 'reality gag show'. People are being paid to do things to themselves, and others, and society. You know the ones. At the moment one guy is licking pudding off of another guy's face, for money)

Marty: Ew. That's gross. (Gags)

Drew: I know! I hate pudding!

(All eye him)

Karl: I have new socks on.

(Nobody answers)

Andre (annoyed): You know, I am getting so sick and tired of your denial!

Marty: Yep. De Nile ain't just a river in Egypt.

Karl: Hey! 'Denial' isn't a river in Egypt!

Essie: Here, have a cookie. (Gives him a cookie)

Karl (looking at cookie): Does it have bugs?

Essie: Probably.

(Karl eats cookie)

Andre: Either make up your mind, or let me go home! My parents are starting to worry!

Merrill: Wait, how old are you?

Drew (rather quickly): He's legal!

(All eye him)

Drew: I, uh, um, HEY! LOOK OVER THERE! (points dramatically)

(Everyone looks, cause well they need excitement in their lives)

(Drew runs from the room)

Russian: Vell, who knew dat my landlady was such a Plato.

Merrill (ignoring the land_lady_ comment): Plato?

Russian: Yah, vosn't Plato a pedophile?

Is Drew a pedophile? Does the Russian have a name? And how _does_ Drew fit him in his pocket? 

That and more to come…


End file.
